


Incurable

by l10nelmessi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l10nelmessi/pseuds/l10nelmessi
Summary: In which Leo is a famous doctor, David is his patient, and maybe they're both trying to heal.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> so I was going through old prompts from fbk2 and i found a hospital!au one that i couldnt get out of my head. someone had started filling it, but never finished, so I thought I could start my own fic. here's the original (brilliant) prompt:  
> "AU where Leo Messi is a talented and popular doctor and David Villa is his long time patient with some major (although not life threatening) illness, whom he falls in love with. Their feelings are mutual."
> 
> if you'd like to read the bit of the fic that the original author!anon wrote, here's the link:  
> http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9768.html?thread=4000296#t4000296

The first time Leo sees him, he's strapped to an ambulance stretcher. He has all kinds of buckles and belts running along his body, he's breathing through an oxygen mask. His eyes are closed. Leo looks at his vitals; slow heart rate, low blood pressure, shallow breathing. He quickly looks at the file again. _Villa._

“He’s flatlining,” the nurse says. He glances back at the screen showing his vitals, and sure enough, the heart rate monitor is dangerously flat. The machine beeps and Leo has to make a decision.

“Defibrillator? Now, please?” He says hurriedly, and someone thrusts the machine into his hands. He charges it up while they unstrap the patient and open his shirt up. He counts down and shocks him. The heart rate graph on the monitor spikes back into action. Leo nods and continues, “I want a glucagon injection, ASAP. Get him into a stretcher and up to 4 North as soon as you can.”

"Dr. Messi?" He turns around to find a younger guy in the same colour scrubs as Leo rushing into the room. He looks nervous, but he says, "ER just brought him through. It's not his first time here, he has—"  
  
"I know, I read the file," Leo says, not unkindly.  
  
"Right," the junior doctor says. Leo reads the ID card hanging from his neck: it says Neymar. There's a patch on the sleeve of his dark blue scrubs that says _Student_. Leo almost shakes his head at how quickly these kids come and go in this place. He turns back to Villa.  
  
"Get him an IV, five hundred mils of saline for now, and then see if you can get some insulin back into him. He's having respiratory problems?"  
  
"Medics say it was a bad attack," Neymar says sympathetically.  
  
"Alright. Keep that mask on him, I want constant O2 at least overnight. I'm doing rounds later, so I'll be back." Neymar nods and quickly gets to work pulling out an IV needle. His fingers move swiftly as he slides it into Villa's arm. Villa doesn't stir.

  
  
*

 

After all these years in the field, Leo still can't stand the smell of hospitals. He throws the windows in his office open, letting in the cool, fresh spring air. Then he sits at his computer and opens up the scans he had been looking at before he'd been paged down for his rounds. He studies the images thoughtfully, making notes when he sees something out of the ordinary. He's immersed in his work, the breeze just ruffling his hair, when he hears a knock at the door. He looks up and finds Andrés standing there, so he motions for him to come in.  
  
"I didn't know you did the night shift, Leo," Andrés says curiously. Leo shakes his head and smiles a little.  
  
"I don't usually," he tells Andrés, "but I figured...well, I don't get much sleep anyway, so I might as well be doing something productive while I'm up, right?"  
  
Andrés laughs and goes over to the open window. "Typical," he says into the dusk. Leo laughs too, because he's right.  
  
"I just got a new patient," Leo tells him. "You might know him. Nurse told me he's been here before—Villa?"  
  
"David Villa?" Andrés asks. Leo nods. "Yeah, he's come to see me a couple times to get blood work done. Nice guy...but what he has, it's serious..."  
  
"I know, he flatlined and I had to bring him back. I'm going to do rounds soon."  
  
"Jesus." Andrés shakes his head. "Yeah, read the file before you go. It's been a rollercoaster for him."  
  
"Alright, thanks for the heads up. Are you heading out?"  
  
"Yeah, I just finished." Andrés yawns—he looks like he hasn't been sleeping well, either. "Take care, Leo."  
  
"Thanks, you too."  
  
"And close the window before you leave, for God's sake. You always leave it open."

  
  
*

  
  
When he knocks on the door that night, Leo can see that Villa already has his eyes open. He's propped up on some pillows, and the oxygen mask is gone.  
  
"David Villa?" He asks, stepping gently into the room. Villa nods, so he continues. "Hi, I'm Leo Messi, I’m the doctor that saw you in ER. Are you feeling any better?"  
  
Villa looks around the room, almost amused, "I'm in a hospital," he says flatly. "I don't think I would be if I were feeling alright."  
  
Leo’s gotten much worse than this from patients, so he takes it in stride. “Right. I guess I should ask you how you got here, then.”

Villa looks at him skeptically before he says anything. “I was at home with a friend. All of a sudden, I started feeling light-headed, dizzy. I tried to get up, but I passed out. That’s how I ended up here.”

Leo asks him more questions about whether he’s on any medication, how long he’s been taking it, if he has any other conditions that he should know about. Suddenly, Villa asks, “I can go home now, right?”

“I’m sorry, but I want to keep you here at least overnight. We wouldn’t want a relapse, so we think it’s best for you to stay so we can monitor your health.”

Villa’s frowns at the word ‘monitor’, but he nods grudgingly. “Thank you, Doctor…?” He trails off, so Leo finishes for him.

“Messi.”

“Messi...the famous one?”

Leo blushes a little, looks down at the ground, then back up at Villa. “That’s what I’m told. I’ll be coming around later, too. To check up on you.”

“Okay. Thank you, Dr. Messi.”

“You’re welcome. You might want to keep that mask on while you sleep, by the way." Villa nods at him, so he says, "Goodnight.” He walks out before Villa has a chance to say it back—and he has a feeling that Villa wouldn’t have said it, anyway.

 

*

 

“Just let me do it for you, Guaje, I don’t mind…”

“Xavi, leave it, just leave it. I can do it myself. God, you’re so…”

“I’m trying to help. So shoot me for trying to be a good person, David.”

Their conversation can be heard from down the hall, and as Leo turns into Villa’s room, he sees another man sitting down on a chair pulled close to the bed. There’s a fruit cup in the man’s hand—Leo assumes this is Xavi—and the lid is halfway pulled off. Leo almost laughs, but manages to keep his composure.

“Good morning,” he says. Both of them just stare at him, so he continues, “feeling a bit better than yesterday?”

“A bit,” Villa mumbles. “How did my scans come up?”

“Nothing serious,” Leo assures him. He sees Xavi let out a small sigh of relief. “You just need rest, and a lot of it. And you need to take your medication regularly—you saw what happened when you skipped a day.”

“I know,” Villa says quietly. He looks up at Leo and asks, “I suppose I’m staying the night again, am I?”

“Looks like it,” Leo says, checking his chart. “Just a precaution, Mr. Villa. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, Dr. Messi.” He seems genuine this time and it makes Leo smile. When Villa meets his eyes he looks away, though he’s not sure why. He backs quickly out of the room, nodding to both of them.

 

*

 

It doesn’t take long before Villa is the first thing Leo thinks about when he gets to work.

He knows he shouldn’t have favourite patients, but he can’t help himself; he likes the deep amber of Villa’s eyes, the way he smiles, like he’s letting you in. Sometimes Leo loses track of time when he’s talking to Villa, and he only realises that he’s been there too long when the nurse comes in, giving him strange looks. Leo keeps making excuses to see him, and even though he knows he’s being childish, like he has some schoolboy crush, he really can’t help it.

In any case, Villa seems happy to see him, too. He tells Leo to call him David, so he does. He gives Leo smiles that could mean anything. When Xavi’s not there, Leo gets a little closer to David than he probably should. David takes his hand once, and Leo doesn’t ever want to pull away.

One day, going through his paperwork, he catches David’s name. It’s a Permission to Discharge form, and Leo raises his eyebrows as he reads the nurse’s report. David’s vitals are stable, he’s in good condition, and there’s really no reason to keep him here any longer. Leo doesn’t have a choice but to sign it. He does so with a feeling like he’s losing something.

“Dr. Messi?” he lifts his head to see that med student, Neymar, at the door. He nods for him to enter. Neymar straightens up a little, and then says nervously, “do you need anything done or delivered? I’ve seen you working a lot lately and I was wondering if you needed a break.” He smiles and looks at Leo with clear green eyes. Leo shakes his head, but he smiles politely.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you for the offer.” Leo cringes inwardly at the thought of someone messing up his work—okay, so maybe he’s a bit of a perfectionist. “I really appreciate it, Ney.”

Neymar perks up a little bit at the nickname. Then he blushes. “Alright. Well. If you need anything, I’m, uh. Available.” He shifts awkwardly in his spot. Leo almost laughs, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you, I’ll let you know.” Neymar seems to get the hint, and hurries out of the room. Leo feels that embarrassed tug in his stomach as he thinks of the admiring looks, the marvel in people’s eyes when they see him. He knows that he’s good at what he does, and helping people feel better is what gives him true motivation, but he could do without the fame. It’s nice, but it’s embarrassing when people bring it up. Leo prefers to keep his head down and keep doing his job.

He hears David’s voice in his head. _The famous one?_   He smiles a little and decides he’s going to go tell David that he can leave.

When he gets there, David’s sitting up in bed, playing cards with Xavi, who’s sitting on the end of the bed. The morning sun spills across their faces. Leo knocks on the open door to get their attention, and they both turn. David smiles at Leo behind Xavi’s back and Leo loses track of what he was thinking for a second, but he clears his throat and says, “Who’s winning?”

“Me, obviously,” Xavi says. David rolls his eyes, smiling. He looks up at Leo, and his eyes are a beautiful shade of brown with the sun shining onto him like this.

“Bad news?” he asks nonchalantly. Leo shakes his head, both to clear it and to answer David’s question.

“No. Good news, actually. You can go now.”

“Seriously?” David asks. “Everything’s good?”

“Yep. Blood tests came back okay, all your scans look fine.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at Leo. A muffled ringtone sounds; it’s coming from Xavi’s pocket. He steps outside to take the call. David watches him go, then turns back to Leo. “So I guess that means I won’t be seeing you anytime soon?” He says it like a question, so Leo answers it.

“I guess not.”

“I’d like to, though.” He looks up at Leo with challenging eyes. Leo steps a bit closer to the bed.

“I’d rather not see you in this setting, to be honest,” Leo says, gesturing at the hospital room around them. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“It’s thanks to you that I’m okay,” David says. “They told me I flatlined.” When Leo nods, he continues, “and they told me that you—well, you brought me back.”

Leo laughs a little. “It wasn’t just me, I have a whole team that works with me.” He moves even closer; if he reached out now, he could probably touch David, but he doesn’t. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

David smiles at him. They hear Xavi’s voice in the hallway, and the faint sounds of the hospital: wheels on the smooth floor, soft beeps from all the machines, the drip of an IV. David takes a pen and a notepad from his side table and scribbles something on it.

“I have many business phones, but this is my personal line,” he jokes, offering the paper to Leo. Leo laughs, but doesn’t take it.

“David, I don’t think…I mean, it’s against protocol…”

David raises his eyebrows at him. “Is that the only thing?” Leo looks in his eyes, and he can’t lie to him.

“Yes.”

David smiles ruefully. “Okay,” he says. He takes the paper and slips it into his own bag. Xavi walks back in and starts asking Leo questions about what time they could leave and what precautions to take once they were out. Leo answers on autopilot.


	2. ii.

Andrés comes to check on him later that day. When he sees how clearly overworked Leo is, he tells him to go home early. Leo looks at him with wide eyes. 

“I was planning to do some overtime today…”

“Leo.” Andrés looks at him and shakes his head. “I can practically see the caffeine running through your veins. Go home.”

Leo sighs. It hits him how tired he actually is, but he doesn’t want to go home and he can’t explain that to Andrés. He can't explain how he feels empty, too empty, like he has to put his hand to his chest every once in a while to see if there's still muscle and bone and skin there, because all he feels is a dark, opaque nothing. He can't explain that he has trouble falling asleep alone, and that he wakes up most mornings reaching out for someone that isn't there. It's too much, and all Leo knows how to do is to take care of other people, not himself. Never himself.

He surrenders and agrees to text Andrés when he gets home. 

 

*

 

When he gets home, it’s late afternoon. He throws his bag on the couch and strips his clothes off—they still smell like the hospital. He doesn’t bother turning the light on as he gets in the shower. Instead, he lets the warm sunlight streaming through the white curtains light up the room as he steps under the hot spray, and he forgets everything for a few minutes.

Afterwards, he sprawls out in bed in a t-shirt and some boxers. He looks at his phone and wonders if he should do it, and he tries to talk himself out of it for all of ten seconds before he thinks,  _ fuck it, _ and he dials the number.

David picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, David, it’s me—it’s, uh.” He’s not sure how to introduce himself —Dr. Messi or Leo?—so he goes quiet for a minute. Thankfully, David recognises his voice.

“Dr. Messi?” He asks. There’s a smile in the way he says it.

“Leo. Call me Leo.”

“Alright, Leo.” He closes his eyes at the way David’s voice curls around his name. “Let me guess. You went through my file? To get my number, I mean.”

Leo should probably say yes, but the truth comes tumbling out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. “No, I—photographic memory.” David bursts out laughing on the other end, and Leo laughs a little, too. “How do you think I got through med school?”

“Lucky you.” There’s a pause, then: “I’m glad you called, Leo.”

“I’m glad I did, too.”

 

*

 

The next time Leo sees David, it’s not in a hospital, which makes Leo relax a little. They end up meeting in a tiny pub in the middle of the city. David greets the owner by name, and they order sangria and tapas to share. They eat olives and cheese and Leo feels he they should be talking, and because he’s a master of deep conversation he says, “are you...feeling any better?”

David laughs and even though he knows it’s not a rude sort of laugh, Leo still wants to kick himself. “Yes,” he assures him, “I’m fine, I promise. Do you usually do a follow-up like this with all of your patients?”

Leo feels himself blushing, so he takes a drink to steady himself a bit. “No,” he says through a smile. “But I thought I’d make an exception.”

David raises his eyebrows, looking amused. “Thank you, Doctor,” he says, still teasing. Leo rolls his eyes.

“I’d rather not talk about work, to be honest,” he says. He pops a piece of cheese into his mouth. David changes the subject gracefully.

“Where are you from? Latin America, right? I can tell by your accent.”

Leo nods. “Argentina.”

“Do you miss it?”

“So much,” he admits. David asks if his family is there and he says, “everyone is there.”

“You’re all alone here?”

“I have friends, don't make it sound like I’m a hermit,” he laughs. “But family-wise, yeah, I’m alone.”

“No...significant other?” David asks cautiously. Leo almost laughs.

“My significant other is my work,” he mumbles. His mind strays to Kun back in Argentina, just for a second. For a second he remembers the caramel of Kun’s skin against the porcelain of his own, the smell of him; but he’s pulled back to reality when David speaks again.

“I can tell,” he says. Leo frowns at him.

“Is that a bad thing? Andr és—my friend—he says I always look overworked. I think ‘haunted’ is the term he used.”

David shakes his head. “No, you look great. I mean, not—not haunted, anyway,” he corrects himself. Leo grins at that; David has been so calm for this whole time, it was good to see that he slipped up every now and then. David continues, “all I meant was that I can tell that you’re really dedicated to what you do.”

Leo smiles appreciatively at him. “What about you?” He asks. “Where are you from?”

David tells him he’s from Asturias, and he tells him all about it; the way it smells in the dusk, the way he used to play football in the street with his friends, how the young men at the cafes used to pour  _ sidra _ , the traditional drink, over their heads and into a glass. Leo listens to him, daydreaming about all the things he hears. He tries to imagine David as a child, as a teenager. He smiles and David smiles back.

He feels their legs touching under the table and it’s comfortable. He feels the alcohol in his body, warm and slowly moving in his veins. He looks at David again, and maybe David sees it because he smiles and shakes his head at Leo.

“What?” Leo asks, smiling back.

“Nothing, just—not many people listen. Really listen.”

“I love listening to you,” Leo says, before he can stop himself. David grins over at him and Leo thinks that he’d like to see that more often.

 

*

 

It’s only once David kisses him that he realises he can’t be doing this anymore, but at that point, it’s hard to stop. David straddles him on his couch and his mouth is sweet and insistent against Leo’s own, and he likes the way that David bites down on Leo’s bottom lip. When Leo moans quietly into his mouth he can feel David’s breath hitch.

He has to stop, but he doesn’t want to. Ever. 

“David…” he says quietly, and it ends up sounding more like a moan than anything else, so David takes it as encouragement and begins kissing Leo’s neck. He almost lets him keep going, but he gathers up all of his willpower and says again, “David, wait...stop…”

David looks up at him. “What is it?”

“I…” It’s so hard, and he looks into David’s eyes,  _ those eyes, _ and he doesn’t want to stop, but…

“Leo?”

“I can’t,” he finally says. “I can’t do this.”

David sighs. “Is it...because of the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Leo tells him. “You know I...well, we could both get shit for this. You’re a patient. Were a patient, whatever.”

“I probably will be a patient again, if we’re being honest,” David mutters. He breaks eye contact and casts his eyes down. Leo frowns at him and touches his fingertips to David’s chest, over the spot where he had pressed the pads of the defibrillator into his skin all those weeks ago. 

“Don’t say that,” Leo whispers. “I don’t want to see you there again.”

“What I have, it’s chronic…”

“I know,” Leo says. He rubs his fingers along his chest, over his shirt. David follows the movement with his eyes. “You’re going to be okay.” David doesn’t say anything and Leo moves his hand up to press his fingers to the dip in David’s collarbones. He feels his pulse beating steadily beneath the skin there. “David,” he whispers. David finally meets his eyes. The sun is setting and it paints the room gold and scarlet.

“You have me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

After a long silence, David says, “please tell me I can kiss you now.” Leo laughs and he watches the smile spread across David’s face. “Please, Leo…” He picks Leo’s hand up from where it rests on his chest and tangles their fingers together. “I won’t tell,” he whispers. He’s dangerously close—Leo can’t keep his eyes off of him. “Patient-doctor confidentiality, or whatever.”

“It’s doctor-patient.”

“Whatever,” David says. They’re both on the edge of laughing. Leo is afraid and in wonder at the same time. David is so close and he hasn’t touched anyone in so long, too long, not since Argentina, not since—

“Leo…” 

He shivers at the way David says his name. They’re still holding hands and Leo pulls him a little closer. David smiles and presses his forehead to Leo’s, lightly.

They don’t say anything. Leo presses his mouth to David’s, and David warmly accepts the contact, smiling into the kiss. Leo runs his free hand up David’s back and he feels him tense against him. He opens his mouth up, licking at David’s tongue. David arches into him and wraps his arms around his neck, and Leo feels like he hasn’t in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think! i'll be continuing this, but i hope you guys like the first part so far. ideas are welcome!


End file.
